There is a garden, which I think He loves
Who loveth all things fair;
And once the Master of the flowers came
To teach love-lessons there.
He touched my eyes, and in the open sun
They walked, the Holy Dead,
Trailing their washen robes across the turf,
An aureole round each head.
One said, with wisdom in his infant eyes,-
'The world I never knew;
But, love the Holy Child of Bethlehem,
And He will love you too.'
One said-'The victory is hard to win,
'But love shall conquer death.
'The world is sweet, but He is sweeter far,
'The Boy of Nazareth.'
One said-'My life was twilight from the first;
'But on my Calvary,
'Beside my cross, another Cross was raised
'In utter love for me.'
One said-'The wine-vat it was hard to tread,
'It stained my weary feet;
'But One from Bozra trod with me in love,
'And made my vintage sweet.'
One said-'My human loves were pure and fair,
'He would not have them cease;
'But, knit to His, I bore them in my heart
'Into the land of peace.'
One came, who in the groves of Paradise
Had latest cut his palm;
He only said-'The floods lift up their voice,
'But love can make them calm.'
I heard a step-I had been long alone,
I thought they might have missed me-
It was my mother coming o'er the grass;
I turned-and so she kissed me.